Fly on a Wall
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: [sequel to The Bee and its Stinger] Ken lies comatose and Osamu curses the fact that he's not a Chosen and, even with the keys, he can't help him. Meanwhile, those keys reach out to both old and new Chosen and someone works behind the scenes to finish the story that spun off from that first failed plan.
1. Anniversary Morning

**A/N:** And a few days later than I intended, but here it is: the first chapter of the sequel to The Bee and its Stinger. One thing that's changed right off the bat is when it starts: instead of the first day of school, I'm kicking off with the fated anniversary!

And Osamu will return in the next chapter. This one's for Daisuke mostly, but with an appearance from Taichi. Enjoy!

* * *

**Fly on a Wall  
Chapter 1 – Anniversary Morning**

Daisuke opened his eyes to the memory of a dream slipping back into the dark.

But it had seemed like an important dream.

He stared at the ceiling. It gave him no hints: the hanging light, the glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling and the soccer posters on the wall were the same as they always were. No doubt everything else was as well: a mix of clothes, soccer memorabilia and random newspapers and magazines making up the contents of his drawers, while more clothes and soccer balls were in the closet. His shelves were perhaps the neatest and least touched – his mother had been adamant in having a space solely for school related things, and that was the desk and the shelf above it.

He mostly did his homework on the bed though. It was more comfortable. Still, he saw the sense in having everything in its place. Made things easier to find. Except answers, because they were never conveniently anywhere…

Like what the heck he'd been dreaming about.

'Something…white?' he suggested to himself.

There might have been something white. It had popped into his head quite randomly, so he supposed that meant it was dream-related. But it didn't ring any bells, and nothing else came to him – except the smell of eggs frying in the kitchen.

He tucked the question of his dream away and got out of bed.

* * *

Walking to school was perhaps the only thing more boring than attending class, Daisuke thought to himself as he rubbed his eyes and waited for the lights to change. It was a shame all his buddies lived on the other end of the school. Walking from school to the park with them was so much more fun.

Not for the first time, he thought he should really find a friend on his side of the school. Or just a walking to school buddy. Or maybe he could even ask Hikari –

He discarded that thought. It would involve him getting out of bed early. He was hardly ever on_ time_.

'Okay,' he said aloud. 'Goal: to find a friend who likes to sleep as much as I do.'

He received a few odd looks from passers by and he blushed a little and walked faster. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

'You could always get up earlier,' someone laughed. 'Early morning's a good soccer time, you know.'

Daisuke spun around. 'Taichi-sempai!' he exclaimed, surprised, before noticing the slightly rumpled casual wear and the soccer ball under one arm. 'You were playing soccer?'

'Yep.' The middle school boy moved the ball into his other hand. 'Almost every morning. Not in my uniform, naturally. Miyamoto-sensei would've had my hide if I came to school covered in sweat. Not that it matters _this_ morning, but, you know…'

Daisuke considered. 'I think Fujitaka-sensei would be cooler about it, but getting up early?' He made a face.

'Not even to catch some company to school?' The two of them started walking again.

'Nah, I'd rather get those extra couple of zzz's.' Daisuke blinked suddenly. 'Hey, the middle school's in the other direction, isn't it? And why aren't you in uniform now?'

'You got me.' Taichi grinned. 'I'm just getting Hikari excused from her classes for the day.'

'Huh?' Daisuke blinked again. 'Why?'

'Anniversary,' Taichi replied. 'Digital World stuff, you know.'

Daisuke didn't know; he only really knew the "Digital World" was some sort of secret between Yagami Taichi and Takenouchi Sora of the district soccer club, and a few others he caught glimpses of every now and then. 'So Hikari-chan knows about it too?'

'Yeah.' Taichi sighed a little. 'It's not a secret, really. Just…secret.'

Daisuke rolled his eyes. 'That's clear as mud,' he pointed out, though he let it go. If Taichi couldn't tell him, he couldn't tell him, and that was really all there was to it. 'Does that mean you'll be walking to school with me?'

Taichi made an exaggerated show of pretending to consider. 'I'll walk you _to_ school,' he finally said.

'I'm not a little kid,' Daisuke said with a pout, though he could barely hold back the laugh. Taichi's exaggerations were always funny.

'You're the same age as my little sister,' Taichi pointed out, 'and look, we're at the school already.'

Daisuke blinked again. Time really did go faster in good company. 'I even made it on –'

The bell interrupted him, and Daisuke cursed under his breath. Taichi just laughed. 'Well, let's see if I can get you out of a detention as well as rescue Hikari.' They set off towards the homeroom Daisuke and Takeru shared. 'If only she'd just stayed back; she could have explained to your homeroom teacher tomorrow. Or he could have just not been sick yesterday…'

Daisuke laughed as well. 'You say that like he was sick on purpose.'

Taichi shrugged. 'He might have been.'

'Then cross your fingers for next Thursday,' Daisuke advised. 'We have a test.'

'Will do.'

* * *

They had a moment of silence in homeroom after Hikari had gone to remember the lives affected by the Odaiba Fog incident. Daisuke only vaguely remembered that, much like most of his classmates. They'd all been holed up in the convention centre at the time, separated from their parents and then, later, returned to them unharmed.

But there had people who hadn't been so safely tucked away. Two boats that had set sail before the fog had shut down the transport systems. They'd collided in the grey, and a few staff and passengers had been killed in the impact. A few buildings had come down: the body of a little girl had been found in the rubble, days later. The TV station had come down as well, killing a pair of reporters still inside. And others that Daisuke couldn't remember at all.

He'd totally forgotten that was the date, and it seemed like much of the class had as well. And it was pushed out of their minds again when the regular process of learning began, and Daisuke made sure to pay extra close attention this time because he wouldn't be able to borrow Hikari's notes for what he'd missed as he'd done on other days.

Who knew; maybe he'd even be able to loan his notes to Hikari this time. Save her a little trouble in catching up, since he knew how she liked to take her notes by this point. And he could pass them on to Taichi in soccer practise –

It suddenly hit him that the anniversary meant that neither Taichi nor Sora would be in soccer practise that day.

_I wonder if they lost someone that day…_ he thought again, like he did every year at that time, though he never asked and always forgot the exact date afterwards. He never did remember dates, except his birthday. Hence why he had a dairy: to write all the important stuff in.

And Odaiba Fog was an important day, but not for him particularly. His entire family had been in the convention centre: Jun with their parents and the other adults, Daisuke with the other kids. The Fog had passed and they'd gone back to their normal lives. It was almost like a dream with fog and crying, lonely and scared kids, and white things –

He blinked. White things. He'd forgotten about those as well. Ghost type things, like blankets someone had set up for a prank. Was that the dream he'd had that morning?

'Motomiya-kun?'

He looked up, face melding into the sheepish expression he always sprouted when he was caught not paying attention.

'The question on the board,' the teacher repeated, before Daisuke could ask. 'Can you solve it?'

He couldn't. He'd zoned out during the explanation. And the teacher sighed before explaining again, and Daisuke returned to his diligent note-taking, scolding himself.

* * *

'Taichi-sempai and Sora-sempai won't be in today,' one of the soccer club juniors explained. 'You're usually with Taichi-sempai's team for warm ups, aren't you?' He looked Daisuke over. 'You might want to hurry up and change before the coach blows his whistle.'

'Actually, I've got something I want to do today,' Daisuke said. 'I just popped in to say that.'

'Oh? You didn't have these plans yesterday.'

Or that morning. It had occurred to him while thinking about that foggy dream and the anniversary Taichi had mentioned. 'I just want to drop off some…flowers or something at the TV station.'

'The Odaiba Fog?' The junior raised an eyebrow. 'You don't go other years.'

Daisuke shrugged. 'I know. I just thought I would this year. Just because I don't know anyone, doesn't mean no-one else did, you know? Taichi-sempai and Sora-sempai maybe… and Hikari-chan too…'

The junior smiled. 'Fair enough.' He fished around in his pockets and pulled out a few coins. 'Give some flowers from me too. And I'll explain to the coach. Deal?'

'Sure thing.' Daisuke accepted the money with a grin. 'Deal.'

* * *

Flowers had turned out to be more expensive than Daisuke thought, so he wound up settling for one nice bouquet instead of going for two louder ones. Somehow those discount ones didn't seem appropriate – not that he knew much about flowers to begin with.

The walk from there to the TV station didn't take too long, though he didn't see Taichi, Sora or Hikari around when he got there. Just flowers on a monument stone and the building itself: rebuilt after the collapse and lots more people than usual milling about.

He joined the crowd going indoors and made it up to the viewing platform. There were loads more flowers there: all sizes and shapes and varieties, and Daisuke noted those discount flowers wouldn't have looked too out of place after all.

He looked at the flowers he'd picked. They didn't look out of place either. In fact, he could see a good place for them, right next to a bouquet with a pink ribbon.


	2. Three Flowers

**A/N:** A strange coincidence that this has three scenes. Wasn't intentional, I assure you. :D

Enjoy!

* * *

**Fly on a Wall  
Chapter 2 – Three Flowers**

The Odaiba Fog incident would probably become an urban legend, but that wouldn't matter much to Osamu. He was only in Odaiba that day because of a commercial meeting, and decided it would be polite to pay his respects as well. Electronics had gone haywire that day, he'd heard. People on life-support who'd still had a glimmer of hope had lost it in those precious few hours.

That had happened three years ago. Before Ken had needed similar support: he slept, and breathed, and his heart pumped, but all of it supported by machines, as though his slumbering body was too fragile to support him otherwise. It probably was; it should have been. But Ken had survived two years between worlds without any of that to aid him.

He'd picked blue and purple because Ken would have been tugging at his sleeve and pointing those out. Because they were rarer than the red and pink and yellow and white and orange that grew in everybody's gardens and they were "pretty" colours. And he didn't mind when Osamu would tease him about picking "girly" colours and "girly" words.

And Osamu had stood by those flowers and imagined it all.

It just went to show how well he knew his brother – and how much he missed him.

So he brought those flowers. And took them to the TV station: the symbol of all that which had happened that day.

And it was easy to get swept up in the emotions. The soft murmurs. The sadness. The stories being exchanged like whispers. The introductions born from tragedies and near tragedies and adventures.

He climbed all the way up to the viewing platform, swept by that.

And there, he almost walked into a familiar face.

'Oh.' The brunet stumbled a bit. 'Oh, you're –'

Osamu turned away.

'The guy who caught the ball I kicked out of school grounds.'

_He remembered that?_

Of course, Osamu hadn't forgotten. The digivices weighed heavily in his bag. He could imagine the blue one flickering again. Calling…

He took a deep, calming breath.

'Did you…lose someone?'

The boy's voice sounded awkward. Awkward, but curious – and awkward in the sense he was worried others' feelings would be hurt as opposed to it simply being difficult to say.

Osamu ignored the weight of his bag and turned back. 'No,' he replied. 'I was just passing through so I came to pay my respects to those who have.'

'Me too.' Then he blinked and amended: 'Rather, I skipped soccer practice, because –'

'Daisuke!'

The boy jumped. Someone was pushing through the crowd, followed by others. Someone…Daisuke…seemed to recognise.

'Taichi-sempai,' he mumbled. 'Umm…hi?'

'Why aren't you at soccer practice?' the one identified as Taichi asked.

'Onii-chan.' A girl about Daisuke's age tugged on his arm, before smiling at Daisuke. 'Hi.'

'Hi, Hikari-chan.' Daisuke ducked his head and blushed.

Osamu snuck a peak into his bag with everybody distracted. He saw eight extra blinking dots.

He counted the people gathering around Taichi and Daisuke and Hikari. Excluding Daisuke, there were nine. One adult and eight kids.

'And you're Ichijouji Osamu?'

He snapped his bag shut and turned to face the speaker properly in the same motion. Not that he thought anyone would question what he had been doing with his bag. But it didn't hurt if they didn't notice at all.

'Yes,' he said warily. It was the adult. That was…not particularly surprising. Ken's teacher had been quite vocal in his adoration of the "boy genius" and it had been quite uncomfortable.

'You had an interview with Fuji TV this morning.'

'Yes,' Osamu replied again. _He knows my schedule?_

'I'm sorry I couldn't make it. But…'

Then he noticed the identification tag the other was wearing. He worked there. No wonder he knew.

'Ishida Hiroaki,' he introduced himself, offering a hand.

Osamu took it and shook it. Then the other introductions went around. Motomiya Daisuke. Yagami Taichi and Hikari – the brother and sister. Ishida Yamato and Takaishi Takeru – the two blonds. Kido Jyou – the tallest. Takenouchi Sora and Tachikawa Mimi – the other two girls. Izumi Koushiro – the red haired boy.

'Taichi-sempai and Sora-sempai are in the same soccer club as me,' Daisuke explained. 'I came to pay my respects to…whoever they were paying their respects to.'

'Wizarmon,' Hikari said quietly.

'Wizar-' Daisuke's confusion quickly cleared. 'Oh, a digimon.'

Taichi punched him lightly on the arm.

_A digimon_, Osamu thought. The Odaiba Fog incident had involved digimon?

They faded away after that easily enough. The group – now ten – and an outsider which was him. They knew Daisuke. Daisuke knew them. Osamu easily vanished into the crowd.

* * *

When he got home, he looked up the Odaiba Fog incident. The official story had more holes than he could count, but it mentioned nothing about digimon. It only spoke of strange sightings and mass hallucinations and someone making use of the technology of the old Fuji TV before destroying it.

But that didn't explain the need for hostages. Why the district's inhabitants were forced into the Convention Centre. Why the digivices reacted. Why… Why…

He sighed and tried searching for the children instead. They'd been awfully trusting, giving out their full names like that to a stranger. Or to a person they'd only seen on television and newspapers and magazines.

Though he was sure Ken would have done exactly the same thing. And he'd always told him he'd get in trouble for it.

Amusing how that hadn't wound up mattering. Ken's undoing hadn't been a stranger at all.

Maybe, he could even say it had been a friend. Or the Digital World…

And yet…Ken had loved that place. Just as he loved this world: the world of mankind. And because of that, because Osamu still carried Ken's wishes with him, in his bag or in his pocket, he couldn't hate them: the Digital World, or Wormmon, or that strange Gennai –

He could blame Akiyama Ryo though. Him…and Milleniummon. The reason Ken was sick in the first place. The reason Ken had even wound up in the Digital World in the first place. The reason they had fought. The reason they had made up. The reason he'd learnt about the Digital World at all.

He stared at the screen. At the results it had brought up. Akiyama Ryo had vanished from the world. He'd looked frequently enough to know that. But for people who were still in the world, there was a wealth of information on the internet. And a wealth of secrecy.

If they were involved with the Digital World, someone had gone to great lengths to keep it a secret.

But not lengths enough.

Because there was something he carried that made it possible to find them.

And a certain bit of knowledge he'd gained that meant he could contact at least one of them from the comfort of his own bedroom.

The question was whether he wanted to find them…and what he wanted from them if he did.

* * *

Odaiba Fog day was always a late day getting home, and therefore it had become a bit of a tradition for Hiroaki to invite his ex-wife and his younger son over and treat everyone to takeout.

It was also a tradition, though a less intentional and less welcome one, to be interrupted before he got his first slice of pizza.

The first year, it was people from work. The second, a work emergency – which weren't quite the same thing.

This year it was neither of those.

'I spoke with you earlier today..?' a familiar voice, though not one he knew intimately, began.

'Ichijouji Osamu?' Hiroaki stared at the receiver.

'Yes. I was hoping you'd be able to shed some light on something.'

Hiroaki glanced at his sons, the elder teasing the younger with the anchovies, and then turned back. 'About?'

Not about the Odaiba Fog incident, hopefully. Yes, he knew more than he reported, but he hadn't reported that for a very good reason.

The amount of people who'd recognised the children as they'd been absorbed into the sky were few, and fewer still remembered that clearly. Just close family. And that was how it had to stay. For their safety. For their peace of mind.

But what Osamu asked was something slightly different. 'Have you heard of a place called the Digital World?'

Hiroaki froze. Then turned around and gestured his sons over. Takeru made a face, his mouth full of cheese. Yamato frowned. 'I'm not scaring that girl from your work again.'

'It's Ichijouji-kun we met this afternoon.' Hiroaki covered the receiver. 'He's asking about the Digital World.'

That got their attention, and a chair fell over – Hiroaki couldn't see who's – as both sons came over.

Yamato took the receiver. 'Hello?'

'Ishida Yamato?' It sounded like the other was making an educated guess.

Yamato affirmed it, then asked his own question. 'Where did you hear about Digital World?'

There was silence for a moment, and then: 'From my brother: Ken.'

Yamato raised an eyebrow at Takeru, who blinked. They'd heard about the Ichijouji brothers: vanishing for two years. The younger one was in a coma now. That must have been Ken. 'Where did he hear about the Digital World then?'

'From a boy called Akiyama Ryo,' Osamu replied. 'Have you heard of him?'

Yamato hadn't, and neither had Takeru. 'Maybe during the Diaboromon incident?' Takeru suggested.

'Milleniummon?' Osamu pressed, before Yamato could ask.

Yamato replied in the negative again, wondering where this was going. Milleniummon sounded like a Digimon's name, but not one they'd ever come across. Maybe it was the Diaboromon incident, but it had been two years since.

Then again, they had been missing for two years.

There was a sigh, and then: 'Have you heard of Gennai?'

'Gennai?' Yamato asked, surprised. 'Yes, but –'

'Then you're a Chosen.' The voice suddenly sounded heavy. Sad.

'We are,' Yamato said. 'Takeru and I, and the other kids from this afternoon, except Daisuke.'

'And you have digivices.'

'Yes.'

_But how does he know about Gennai and divigices? _he wondered. _And whoever this Milleniummon is._

'Can you open a gate to the Digital World?'

Yamato hesitated before answering. He wasn't sure why; there was nothing to hide from his answer, except perhaps a sadness that rooted from the negative. 'We can't,' he said, finally. 'Not for a few years.'

And their last trip was something that seemed like a mostly forgotten dream.


End file.
